Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts
"My father he is a baron bolde,
Of lynage proude and hye;
And what would he saye if his daughter 75
Awaye with a knight should fly?
"Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,
Nor his meate should doe him no goode,
Till he had slayne thee, Child of Elle,
And seene thy deare hearts bloode." 80
"O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
And a little space him fro,
I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that he could doe.
"O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette, 85
And once without this walle,
I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that might befalle."
Faire Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,
And aye her heart was woe: 90
At length he seizde her lilly-white hand,
And downe the ladder he drewe.
And thrice he claspde her to his breste,
And kist her tenderlie:
The teares that fell from her fair eyes, 95
Ranne like the fountayne free.
Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,
And her on a faire palfraye,
And slung his bugle about his necke,
And roundlye they rode awaye. 100
All this beheard her owne damselle,
In her bed whereas shee ley;
Quoth shee, "My lord shall knowe of this,
Soe I shall have golde and fee.
"Awake, awake, thou baron bolde! 105
Awake, my noble dame!
Your daughter is fledde with the Childe of Elle,
To doe the deede of shame."
The baron he woke, the baron he rose,
And called his merrye men all: 110
"And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte;
The ladye is carried to thrall."
Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,
A mile forth of the towne,
When she was aware of her fathers men 115
Come galloping over the downe.
And foremost came the carlish knight,
Sir John of the north countraye:
"Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure,
Nor carry that ladye awaye. 120
"For she is come of hye lynage,
And was of a ladye borne,
And ill it beseems thee, a false churles sonne,
To carrye her hence to scorne."
"Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight, 125
Nowe thou doest lye of mee;
A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,
Soe never did none by thee.
"But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,
Light downe, and hold my steed, 130
While I and this discourteous knighte
Doe trye this arduous deede.
"But light now downe, my deare ladye,
Light downe, and hold my horse;
While I and this discourteous knight 135
Doe trye our valours force."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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